Twister with a Twist
by Sigma Creations
Summary: Fun one-shot inspired by a photo of a shower. Set sometime after Ruth's return. Kudos owns the characters, but the writing is mine. If you have a moment, let me know what you think. Cheers, S.C.


"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What.. er.. what the hell is that?" She's not quite sure why she's asking the question. Any sane person would have bolted from the room and out the front door the moment they laid eyes on it.

"What?" he asks, poking his head round the doorway into the room.

"The shower."

"Oh, that. I've no idea. It was like that when I moved in. I haven't had a chance to redecorate, remember?"

Ruth stares at him.

"What?" He frowns, moving into the room with her. It's a small bathroom and, if she wasn't so distracted by her incredulity, she'd be panicking right about now. Enclosed spaces with Harry do things to her body and it terrifies her to think she might lose control and kiss him... or worse.

"Are you pulling my leg or do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"Why the shower has four rows of red, blue, yellow and green dots."

"No idea. Why? Is there some significance to the pattern?" He's looking at the shower with a puzzled frown.

"Have you never played twister, Harry?"

"Twister? What's that?" Now his eyes are on hers and suddenly there's not enough air in the room.

"A board game? With a mat almost identical to your shower there and a wheel you spin?" she replies, valiantly trying to remain cool and in control despite the situation. Why oh why had she let Harry talk her into visiting his new home to give him her opinion on how he should have it redecorated?

"No. Is that what this is?"

"I'd say so," she replies weakly.

"Why would someone put it in a shower?"

"Er..." She blushes. _Dammit!_

"Ruth?"

"Well, the... um... the way the game is played is that the... um... spinner is use to..." she stammers, trying to will away the blush that's only getting worse with each passing moment, every word uttered by either of them.

"To what?" He looks amused now as if he's enjoying her discomfort very much indeed.

"To determine where the players put their... er... hands and feet, so..."

"Where they put their hands and feet?" He tilts his head at her, pursing his lips and she has to clamp her mouth shut lest she say something stupid, like lips or tongue. Briefly she has a vision of playing twister with Harry and him having to put his tongue on something red...

She shakes her head to clear it. "What colour they put them on."

He smirks almost as if he knows exactly what she's been thinking. "Ah... So in the shower it would be an interesting way to have-"

"Yes," she interrupts quickly lest he say the word and all is lost. Then she realises what she's said and quickly adds, "I mean, no. I mean, yes. Oh, Stop laughing, Harry," for he is now chuckling quite freely, his eyes sparkling, his face looking so much softer, younger all of a sudden.

"I can't. This is the single most wonderful conversation I've ever had in my bathroom, Ruth." And he laughs again at the look on her face.

She smiles, finding his good humour contagious. "How many conversations do you have in your bathroom then, Harry?" she asks mischievously, his laughter and the humour of the situation allowing her to drop her guard for a moment and appreciate it.

"This year? One. Not counting the ones I have with myself, of course." His eyes are still twinkling.

"Oh! Er... Good." She's not sure what she'd expected him to say, but that wasn't it.

"Good?" He takes a step closer, trapping her against the sink behind her. "Does this mean you want to be the only woman who has conversations with me in my bathroom, Ruth?"

 _Christ! What now, Ruth?_ She stares at him, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. This is why it was meant to be an April Fool's joke, agreeing to come round to his place today. But it would have been cruel to hurt him like that, to wipe away the joy that had lit up his face for a moment when she'd offered to give him her opinion on what colours to paint his walls. And she never wants him to think her cruel.

She's taken too long to answer and he's stepping away, turning to leave the room with a defeated kind of air about him. _How much longer, Ruth? How much longer will you deny your feeling for this wonderful, precious man?_

She takes a step away from the sink and says hastily, "In any bathroom, Harry."

She sees him freeze and slowly turn to face her again, a cautious look of hope in the depths of his eyes. "Lunch?" he asks softly.

"Lunch would be lovely," she replies.

Much later, after they've cooked together, eaten, done the washing up and are sitting side by side on his sofa finishing up the bottle of wine, Harry says suddenly, seemingly out of the blue, "So...how about a game of twister? You could teach me to play."

She turns to look at him, smiling at the adorably mischievous look in his eyes.

"Here, yes. In the shower... it's a bit soon for that, and besides, you'll need to find a waterproof spinner first."


End file.
